


World Without End

by matins



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Also apparently Tellarites can be Jewish, Backstory, Captain Pike would like everyone around him to stop dying please, Character Study, Chekhov's Gun, Crisis of Faith, Gen, Guilt, Just for fun I've decided Pike is a lapsed Catholic, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sort Of, s02e01-2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 12:32:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18135800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matins/pseuds/matins
Summary: It’s been a good ten years, give or take a scrape or two, since he genuinely, no-way-out-of-this-one, give-my-love-to-mom knew he was going to die, and it’s weird how instinct reasserts itself.





	World Without End

 

The damned ejector seat jams, and the debris field sways crazily in his vision as the pod accelerates downward. Pike would be mortified that he’s about to throw up in an EV suit if he weren’t also about to smeared across a gravitationally distorted asteroid. 

It’s been a good ten years, give or take a scrape or two, since he genuinely, no-way-out-of-this-one, give-my-love-to-Mom knew he was  _ going to die _ , and it’s weird how instinct reasserts itself. At the moment, like the good test pilot he used to be, he just hopes he passes out from the g-forces before he hits the bottom. He’s so busy trying to talk Burnham out of getting herself killed too that he has barely any attention to spare for the half-conscious rhythm running through the back of his mind. 

In fact, he’s halfway through the familiar form of words before he even notices. 

_ O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee, and I detest all my sins... _

The worst thing about this is Connolly. His first tour, not ready for a mission like this. It’s a captain’s job to model discipline to his junior officers, but dammit, if he’d been smart enough to know what he didn’t know and follow Burnham… 

_ … my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love… _

Burnham herself - Pike’s known her all of half a day and he already knows she’s brilliant and his last act before dying will be getting her smeared to pulp with him. 

_.. I firmly resolve, with the help of thy grace, to amend my life…. _

The viewport ahead of him shatters as Owosekun triggers the ejector mechanism. All he can hear is the roaring in his ears…

_ Amen.  _

And Burnham catches him. 

—————————————————————————————————————---------------------------

That night, he dreams he’s a boy again, back in his father’s study. Everything’s the way he remembers, from the silk painting of the Buddha Maitreya on the wall behind the computer console (Chinese, Ming Dynasty, circa. 1620 CE) to the bronze  _ Kupara  _ goddess figurine given pride of place on a side table (Andorian, early Classical period, circa 200 BCE). 

He’s looking for something on one of the shelves - a book? -  but he can’t remember what it is, and as he pulls volume after volume down the hairs rise on the back of his neck. He’ll be caught soon, he has to find it now.

The pile of books and other objects grows round him. He’s not tall enough to reach the highest shelf. It must be there… 

‘Chris?’ A touch on his shoulder. He turns round. Of course, Mom won’t have left yet. She looks at him, but her face is oddly vague, and somehow he cannot meet her eyes. 

‘We’re about to go and see your father. What are you looking for? ‘ 

Chris looks away, knows she knows. 

She reaches for the box on the top shelf, removes something. ‘Is it this again? I thought it was upsetting you, but if you really want it back…?’

She puts her hand on his shoulder. “It was an accident, Chris, You understand that, don’t you?’ She holds out her other hand. 

And there, glinting in her palm, is the thing he was looking for. How can he have forgotten what it was?

Pike wakes, silently and completely. His eyes are wet. 

————————————————————————————————------------—————---------------

As soon as he sees the settlement on the viewscreen he knows this is going to be a screwy one. 

‘It’s all coming from this structure, here.’

‘It’s a church, Burnham.’ 

Going into that place is like stepping back in time. He half expects it to smell of old incense and wax polish like St James’s back home. Instead it smells of dust and something vaguely floral. 

Burnham looks around efficiently, her expression cool, ever the anthropologist. He wants to warn her to tread lightly, but telling her her job will get him nowhere. 

Later, they stand and listen to the All-Mother tell the story of New Eden, and for a moment Pike can see his father at the dinner table. Hands in your lap while Grace is said. He’s going to do something dangerous in a minute, but Burnham gets there first.  

‘Say my religion is science. Has anyone used it to find an alternate answer to how our ancestors got here?’ 

‘How, without the proper technology?’ Jacob answers, ‘ All we've got are decaying relics that came with the First Saved.’ 

‘Still, there must be some rational theories about how the church was transported here.’

‘A camera attached to a soldier's helmet exists from that time, but it's broken.’

‘We have no need for proof.’ says the All-Mother ‘We are guided by the existence of something greater than ourselves: our faith.’ 

Time to go. If the camera is in the church it should have everything they need. 

‘It's getting late.’ Pike says, ‘We're setting out early tomorrow. Would you mind if we take shelter in your church?.’

‘Of course not.’ 

‘Thank you for the fellowship.’

As they leave, the All-Mother catches his eye. 

‘Peace be with you.’ she says. 

Perhaps it’s just the day he’s had, but Pike doesn’t even think, the response comes automatically. 

‘And also with you.’

And then when they get back to the church it all goes to hell. If Pike learned anything from his father it’s that faith can be fucking dangerous. Jacob’s is going to get someone killed in the next few minutes if no-one talks him out of it. 

As they approach the knot of locals again, he can see Jacob talking animatedly, his face wavering in the firelight. The All-mother is shaking her head, aghast as he admits to theft. 

He can see the tightness in Burnham’s face. He knows she wants to tell the truth, and he also knows Burnham sometimes has a problem with orders. General Order One stands a cat’s chance in hell right now. He takes charge.

‘What happened to “thou shalt not steal?”’

‘I just want her to see the truth!’ 

’The truth is that he attacked us. He violated everything that the Faith holds dear. You give us back what you took, and we'll leave.’ 

‘Listen to me.’ says Jacob ‘They came on a starship. They can take us back home. We can experience the real Earth.’ 

The All-Mother intervenes. ‘This is your home. You are living by the corrupt way of the old Earth, Jacob.’ 

Jacob turns to Burnham, ‘You're the scientist. Tell her I'm right.’ 

The whine of a phaser splits the air, and Pike moves

—————————————————————————————————————---------------------------

Dr Pollard tells him later it was the painkillers. Turns out they give you a hell of a lot of them when they have to saw your ribs open to repair a sucking chest wound. 

Right now he’s in surgery, but in his head he’s twelve, and he wants nothing more than to ride until the desert swallows him and the world changes and he can come out of a dust storm into the Wild West.

Every other kid his age wants a hover bike. 

Dad slows Dancer to a walk and pulls the water bottle from his saddle pouch. He takes a pull, then tosses it to Chris. 

’Siddhartha.’ 

Chris takes a drink himself before he throws it back, ‘Easy. Indian prince who became the historical Buddha. Lived in the third century BCE.’

‘Try another one; how about Guru Gobind Singh?’

‘Why do you care about this stuff? Mom says is ar-, archay-‘

‘Archaic. Try another one. What about … St Reprobus?’ 

Chris rolls his eyes. ‘St Reprobus. Better known as St Christopher, meaning ‘Christ bearer’. Probably mythical. Patron saint of travellers in most Christian traditions.’

‘And, co-incidentally, the name of my son. That’s why. Because "this stuff" is in our DNA. It’s worth caring about.’

‘How can you teach this and astrophysics at the same time?’

‘We need them both. You think the rest of the galaxy doesn’t take its traditions into space? Vulcans? Klingons? Hell, I once met a Tellarite who converted to Judaism... ’ 

Chris rolls his eyes again. He doesn’t want to hear to the end of this spiel, not when the horizon’s there and waiting. Which means there’s only one thing to do. He quirks his lips up. 

‘Race me?’ 

He puts his heels to Tango’s sides before his father can answer and doesn’t look back, because this is the best thing of all. He can hear the hoofbeats following as Dad tries to catch up. On and on, and he feels so free he doesn’t ever want to stop. 

The river’s up ahead, but it should be shallow enough to cross without dismounting; no rain just recently….

‘Chris, slow down! You don’t know what’s ahead up there.’ 

Chris turns Tango to avoid a largish river rock, exposed by the low water level. He turns back to warn Dad, but before he can get the words out, he sees Dancer stumble. 

Dad hangs suspended for half a second, and just for a second Chris thinks he might recover control; he might not fall.

He feels rather than sees them both go down, his own stomach dropping. Like this was somehow inevitable.  

The world seems to have gone silent. He reins Tango in, for once not caring if he pulls his mouth, and scrambles down from the saddle. 

Dancer’s lying on his side with his head at a weird angle, and he isn’t moving. Chris doesn’t want to look, but he has to. Dad is a metre or so behind - Dancer must have thrown him clear when he fell. 

Dad’s on his back, not moving either. His eyes flicker. For a stupid moment, Chris thinks it's going to be alright after all. 

Dad wets his lips and speaks. It’s a broken whisper, doesn’t sound like him at all. ‘Chris… the comlink…’ 

Chris dives for his saddle pouch. As his fingers close on the comlink, he lifts the other hand and touches the medal at his throat. He thinks upwards.  _ Save him. _

——————————————————————————————————---------------——--------------

‘Congratulations, Captain,’ says Dr Pollard when Pike surfaces out of the haze of knockout drugs far enough to believe her about the xylophone and the Klingon marching band, ‘you are now officially my dumbest patient. And Ensign Tilly over there knocked herself out with her own scientific sample.’

‘You know, I could have you brought up on a charge for calling me stupid, Doctor.’

‘Yes, sir, but then who would sew you back together next time you decide to dive on a phaser?’

‘Point taken. Did Burnham and Owosekun make it up from the surface okay?’ 

‘Yes sir.  You were the only casualty. Which, I reiterate, is entirely down to-’ 

‘The point is securely made, Doctor. Can we get Burnham down here for a report? Written if possible.’ 

Burnham brings chocolate and a trashy mystery novel for Tilly, and mission data for her captain. She looks at him kind of funny, and Pike resolves to talk to her properly later and smooth out whatever the...  _ this _ is. He’s ashamed of himself for thinking she might disobey his orders back in New Eden. Burnham’s got smart on top of smart, and an unerring ability to work miracles in the worst circumstances. He needs her. More to the point, he likes her. 

When Burnham leaves, he leans back against the biobed and tries in vain to get comfortable. Unconsciously, his hand goes to his throat again. There’s nothing there, of course. 

He speaks out loud to Ensign Tilly, since no-one else is around and talking to himself will get him an unhelpful reputation amongst his already traumatised crew. 

‘Ensign, you think the things we used to love ever really leave us? Even when we think we’ll never see them again?’  

Tilly sits bolt upright in her bed, the padd sliding unnoticed to the floor. ‘Wh- Why do you ask, sir? Did you, I mean, have you-’ 

Pike reaches out a reassuring palm, before the pull in his side makes him remember why that’s a terrible idea. ‘At ease, Ensign. I withdraw the question. That novel any good?’

————————————————————————————————————-------------------------------

Pollard lets him go on the condition that he takes a dose of terakine every four hours and doesn’t try to laugh. Lorca’s old quarters give Pike the creeps, so not much risk of that. 

When he goes to sleep again, he’s nineteen, and his father’s requiem Mass is drawing to an end. His brand new cadet’s dress uniform is uncomfortable, but he owes it to Dad. Chris joining Starfleet was about the only thing they’ve agreed on since he left elementary school.

It’s all just wrong. People shouldn’t die of pneumonia, not now, not when almost everything is fixable. They certainly shouldn’t die because their stupid twelve-year-old son landed them with a case of lingering paralysis and the damned doctors missed the early signs of infection.  

Chris puts an arm round Catherine and she turns her face into his chest. He might be taller than his big sister now but he’ll never be as tall as Dad was, before. 

Up at the front, the priest’s reedy voice reaches its peroration. She holds the wafer up in her thin hands, blue veins shining through fragile skin. His mother sobs and looks away. 

After the service, Mom comes and slips something into his hand. He feels the chill of a small metal object. 

‘Your father wanted you to have it back again,’ she says. 

Pike wakes in his borrowed quarters, and realises he doesn’t have it any more. 

—————————————————————————————————————---------------------------

Number One, bless and keep her, doesn’t bother asking why her former (future) CO is calling her in the middle of the night shift. Or in his sleepwear. 

‘I didn’t wake you, Number One?’ 

‘No sir, we’re midway through the day cycle here. Can’t say I wasn’t surprised to get your message, though.’ 

‘Did you find it?’ 

‘Took me a while to convince the techs to let me back on board, but yes. Truth to tell, Chris, of all the things I thought you’d ask me for, an antique St Christopher’s medal wasn’t one of them. If it matters that much to you how come you left it behind?’ 

‘I stopped wearing when I left for the Academy. It … didn’t seem relevant anymore. Even less after my dad was gone.’

He wets dry lips and plunges on, ‘I’m starting to think I was wrong about that.’ 

Number One raises an elegant eyebrow, ‘Your love for religious metaphors catching up with you?’ 

‘Something like that. It’ll be good to have it back. Thanks Number One, I owe you one.’ 

‘You owe me several. I’ll collect when I drop this trinket off.’ 

‘Burger with all the trimmings it is. How are the crew?’

‘As well as we could expect. Being grounded is pretty tough on them. It doesn’t help that Jupiter Station’s full of war heroes.’ 

‘Know the feeling. I hope we can get them flying again soon.’ 

She gives a tight little smile, as if to say  _ Me too, but it isn’t happening.  _ ‘Anything else I can do for you?’

‘Look after yourself. And them.’

This time her smile is genuine.’You too. Sir.’ She kills the comm. 

Against medical advice, Pike pours himself a scotch and leans against the viewport in what he hopes is the position least likely to aggravate his ribs. 

_ Hell _ , he thinks,  _ on a voyage as screwy as this one, a little help from St Christopher can’t hurt. _

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before they leave Terralesiyum, he beams down to the surface. 

It’s only partly because they need that camera, though it would be crass to claim that’s not in the mix. The other part it is that he knows what it’s like to be Jacob right now. And because dammit, if he can reward someone’s faith, he wants to. 

‘Do you have a ship? Do you fly among the stars?’  

Pike laughs softly, ‘Yeah.’

As he materialises back on the pad, he bows his head and thinks upwards.  _ Save him.  _


End file.
